


itsy bitsy teeny weeny beskar scalemail thong (&) bikini

by Koumine (thesecretsavant)



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Appreciative Humiliation, BDSM, Bikinis, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bottom Din Djarin, Breathplay, Choking, Devaronians (Star Wars), Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Mild Humiliation, Name-Calling, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Woman With A Penis, beskar scalemail bikini, it's a thing, kink: held down, male submission, pole dancer!Din, stripper!Din, submissive Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29216874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecretsavant/pseuds/Koumine
Summary: Kai happens to own the best gentlebeing’s club on Nevarro.  The Mandalorian is the club’s most popular dancer.  The two of them have a … special arrangement.AU in which Din Djarin became a stripper / pole dancer to support The Tribe.  After all, it pays a lot better than bounty hunting.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Kai Darso (Original Character)/Din Djarin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11
Collections: Star Wars Fanfiction Discord





	itsy bitsy teeny weeny beskar scalemail thong (&) bikini

**Author's Note:**

> Assume that all kink negotiations took place prior to the events of this fic. Yes, Kai is a woman with a dick. See my headcanons about Devaronians [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458160).
> 
> Dedicated to my old friend **ilikepanties**. Special thanks to [Clio_Codex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clio_Codex) and [SiladhielLithvirax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiladhielLithvirax) for beta-ing, and to [LuukeWriites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuukeWriites) and [Noxfam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxfam) for enabling this filth. You’re all fucking stars.

Kai had the Mandalorian’s weekly pay ready and waiting in a pouch on her desk when he walked into her office, fully dressed and armored as usual. It had been a long, busy night, the tail-end of a weeklong local festival spilling over into her club, where new patrons were welcomed in with half-price drinks and raucous greetings from the regulars. The Mandalorian, always a crowd favorite, had stayed on the clock almost twice as long as usual to rake in all the creds tossed his way by the happy spenders. 

“Good work tonight,” Kai said as he strode up to her desk.

He didn’t reply, and ignored the money pouch too, coming around to her side of the desk and starting to undress without a word. Weapons removed first -- blaster safeties double checked, holsters and bandolier unstrapped, a piece at a time set down on her desk. Kai folded down the lid of her holo-display and leaned back in her chair to watch in frank appreciation. 

He got the armor off without fanfare, without a trace of performative flourish. It was the real armor, painted and battle-worn beskar which he always stored in the secure employee lockers and never wore onstage. The helmet, as always, stayed on. 

Kai’s eyebrows went up when he shucked off the final under-armor layers, draping it all across her desk. Underneath, he was still wearing the innermost pieces of his work uniform: a tiny beskar bikini on top, and an equally tiny beskar thong on the bottom. The thong did nothing at all to hide how hard his cock was.

“ _Really_ ,” she said, smirking. The Mandalorian just sighed at her and climbed onto her lap, straddling her legs.

Implicit permission received, she touched him, digging her fingers right into the taut curves of his ass. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned back into it, exhaling a different kind of sigh.

“You could come to me more often, you know,” Kai said, dragging her touch along beneath the delicate flat-woven chains that made up the straps of the thong.

“I hate how smug you are about it,” he retorted. “I can only stand it every so often.”

Kai smirked at him more widely. She had a Mandalorian, _this_ Mandalorian, crawling onto her lap to be fucked; she _was_ smug, rightly so, and she made no attempt to hide it. 

“Liar,” she said serenely, “you _love_ it.” She took the way he shivered when she scratched her short nails down his inguinal crease as proof. The scale mail pieces of the beskar thong made a quiet jingling, flashing like tiny coins in the low, shifting pink lights coming through her one-way window. 

The head of the Mandalorian’s cock peeked out above the waistband, already glistening with enticing little beads of precum. An answering stirring beginning low between her legs, Kai hooked her thumbs under the straps on either side and tugged upward; the Mandalorian made a breathy little moan as the thong shifted against his cock and balls, as the narrow flat-woven chain that made up the gusset pulled up tight against his asshole.

“Kai,” he said. His hands flexed on her shoulders, fingertips digging in and releasing, points of pressure dulled through her sleeveless shirt. She smirked at him some more and slid her hands upward along his sides, the thong pulling taut for a moment until the straps rolled off of her thumbs and gravity dragged the whole thing back into place in a chiming cascade. He flinched back, gasping, and twitched toward her again. 

“Come here,” Kai said, and tugged him forward until she could feel beskar scales pressed against her belly. Shuddering a little, he started rutting up against her, almost a reflexive need for friction. Kai ground up against his ass a little to get her own taste of delicious sensation, dragging her hands further up his chest until her palms rested over the two little scaled triangles of the bikini.

“Kai,” he said again, breathlessly. She pulled the bikini aside and ducked her head down to apply her long pointed tongue to an already erect nipple, and he whined, arching and curling arms around her neck to hold her there. “Kai, Kai, come on…” She laved around his nipple, flicked the tip of her tongue against it, closed her lips on it for one hard suck until he clenched arms and legs tight around her and whined again. “Kai, come on, _fuck me_ ,” he demanded. 

Kai lifted her head to look at him, circling her thumbs near enough to his nipples to just tease, a wicked grin curling at the corner of her mouth. “Tell me the real reason you don’t come to me more often,” she said.

“That _was_ the real reason,” he said tersely. She didn’t believe him for a second.

“No,” she said slyly, “I really don’t think it is.”

He huffed and diverted, shifting to open her desk drawer and taking out the bottle of lube she kept in there just for him. Kai let him open the bottle, but insinuated her hand in the way when he went to squeeze lube into his own hand. It slid thick and cool over her fingers, and when she had enough, she reached down between his legs -- dry hand pulling the body-warm gusset of the thong aside, lubed fingers sliding up to apply a sheen of slick to his hole. His head dipped down, either in pleasure, or because he was trying to watch, or both; the point of the helmet’s chin dug into his sternum, unregarded. 

He shoved the bottle of lube onto the desk between his backplate and a pair of throwing knives and made a soft sound when she pushed the first finger into him, gripping her shoulders, trying to move in to get her deeper inside. “More,” he demanded.

Kai ignored him, working that one finger in and out of him steadily, working him open properly. The Mandalorian made a sort of growl and reached down as though to manipulate her hand -- or to put his own fingers in beside hers, now _that_ was a thought to hold onto for later -- but she caught his wrist and dragged it to the small of his back, pinning it there.

“None of that, princess,” Kai purred. “Or I’ll stop.” To punctuate her point, she pulled her finger out until just the tip was toying with his rim. He ground down toward the sensation; she let him chase, but never quite catch it.

After a moment, he let out a long breath, stilling. Quiescent. Quietly delighted, Kai rewarded him by thrusting her finger back in, but still she finished preparing him slowly, being ever so careful and proper. She took her time with it more than usual, because she wanted to make him squirm. 

She made sure to touch his prostate only occasionally, just to tease him, either rolling her fingertips over the firm nub of it inside him or pressing her thumb up into the soft place behind his balls -- both made him suck in a little breath and momentarily go still. Prey caught in the jaws of a predator, hoping vainly for mercy.

“Come on, come on,” the Mandalorian panted, starting to rock against her fingers with a delicious little undulation of his hips. Kai watched for a long moment, transfixed. The same motion, though more exaggerated, usually featured in his stage routines, but it was infinitely more mesmerizing up close, seeing those muscles bunching and flexing subtly as he rocked on her fingers, foreshadowing what was to come. The clutch of his ass around her slicked fingers called to her as well, that tight heat eager for her to sink her cock into it. His own cock was trapped against his belly by the little triangle of shiny beskar scales, the head of it exposed and flushed pink. If she had had a hand free, she would have traced a fingertip along it too; as it was, she could only look. 

“Tease,” he said, a breathless accusation.

“Impatient,” she replied, dragging her eyes from down below up to look him in the eye. But he wasn’t the only one feeling impatient. 

“Open my pants for me,” she told him. He tried to use his dominant hand, the one that Kai had captured, as if she would let him go now for anything less than him telling her to. She had him caught, and she would keep him. He hitched a breath and his shoulders when he found his wrist still held tight in her grip, before reaching down with his one unrestrained hand to free her cock from where it had been uncomfortably trapped in her leather trousers. 

Kai hissed in a breath as he pulled her out, cool human hand curling around her shaft and giving her one long inflaming stroke from root to tip, smooth firm calluses from weapons and the pole alike dragging over the sensitive bumps that spiraled up her cock to just below the tapered head. 

“Lube,” she demanded, but the Mandalorian was already awkwardly half turning to pick up the bottle. He squeezed a generous mess of it right onto the head of her cock, which gave a hot throb in response, a foil to the coolness of the lube.

She took her hand away from where it had still been absently toying with his ass and slicked the lube down her own length; he moved in close and then watched raptly as she lined up and pushed slowly into him, as she pulled him down onto her cock gradually by her grip on his wrist and pressure applied at the small of his back.

“Oh,” he said quietly, tremulously; he let her pull him in slowly instead of impetuously bulling his way closer, as she had half expected. Kai watched just as raptly as he sank down onto her cock, engulfing her in his heat bit by inching bit until she was sheathed fully inside him. 

It didn’t matter how many times they did this -- always, always the first moment of being inside him, being hips to hips, flesh to flesh, surrounding him, surrounded by him -- it left her speechless, struck dumb. She closed her mouth (it had fallen open), swallowed, suppressed a shudder by channeling it into the clenching of her lube-slick grip on his thigh. Started to fuck him, just tight little rocking thrusts that made him pant and move against her in counterpoint, an opposite but harmonious rhythm. That undulation again. She dragged her hand over to his abdomen to feel the way the muscles moved under his skin.

“Come _on_ ,” the Mandalorian said again.

“Something the matter?” Kai said innocently. Heart pounding in her chest, but feeling steadied by her hold on him, on the scene.

He made a low groan. “Give me _more_ , you karking tease,” he demanded.

“I could do that,” she said agreeably. And then did nothing different. Just kept at those tiny little undulations of her own, enough to feel good -- teasing them both with the bumps nearest to the base of her cock slipping in and out of his sensitive rim -- but not enough to satisfy either of them. The gusset of the thong, pushed just out of the way, gave her another little hint of friction too. 

“Kai, seriously --” He tried to use the hand he had on her shoulder for leverage, to push himself up enough to really ride her like he wanted, but he managed to get no farther than a few centimeters before Kai snatched up that wrist and dragged it behind his back too. He made a strangled sort of moan and resisted a little, almost reflexively, but there was nowhere he could go, no leverage he could find unless he wanted to kick himself off her lap entirely. 

She’d let him go, if he wanted that. But they both knew he didn’t. She held his wrists at the small of his back and kept a downward tension on them, sheathing herself to the hilt inside him again and using her grip on him to keep him there.

“Seriously,” Kai replied, a little breathless herself. She watched him, _felt_ him squirm, visibly torn between testing her grip to really feel it, wanting her cock deep inside him, and wanting her to _move_.

“I figured it out, you know,” she murmured.

“What?” He said. Distracted, still, by conflicting desires.

“I figured out why you don’t come to me more often,” she said. She wondered if he would admit it of his own volition, or if she would have to _make_ him.

He gave an aggravated sigh, turning his head to the side and back again. His version of a demonstrative eye-roll. “Really? You’re still on about that?” Pretending at exasperation and ease, pretending she didn’t have him teetering on the precipice of pleading, but a faint, revealing tremble crawled across his shoulders.

Apparently they were going to do this the hard way. She let her burgeoning glee manifest only in the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. “Yes, Mando,” she said slyly, “I’m still waiting for you to tell me the truth.”

“I -- I did,” he said unsteadily.

“You didn’t,” she replied. She made her eyes big and reproachful, full of deepest sorrow. “You _lied_ to me, Mando.”

She ground her hips against him a little, continuing to tease him, an ostensible punishment -- part of the game. He could barely move with the way she was holding him down, but still he tried -- tried to grip her sides with his thighs, but only managed to knock his knees against the sides of her chair -- tried his strength against the firmness of her grip, but only managed to inspire her to hold him tighter, which was what they both knew he really wanted.

He panted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Breath gone uneven, his usual impenetrable composure stripped away, the Mandalorian squirmed in whatever little way he could, even if it was only in the opening and closing of his trapped hands, the slight tensing and relaxing of his belly, the gentle heaving of his chest as he breathed. She took what he gave over to her and held it in trust for him, making herself as steady as stone.

Kai’s smirk expanded, grew out of control until it took over her mouth and revealed a hint of sharpness. “I’m sure,” she said. “I’ll explain it to you, then.”

“You don’t come to me more often because _you like denying yourself,_ ” she purred. She ground up into him some more, holding him in place by her grip on his wrists, as much for emphasis as to whet her own appetite. He shuddered, tested her grip again, but didn’t deny her statement. “You get like this every night you work,” she continued, eyes sharp on him, “I know you do -- I see it in the way you move, on and off stage -- dancing for the audience _arouses_ you.” A sudden snap of her hips to punctuate, to punch a choked groan out of him and make him squirm to try to chase for more. “But then at the end of every night, you go home and you do nothing about that arousal. You let yourself steep in it, night after night after night. Until finally,” she said, grinning fiercely at him, “finally you’ve aroused yourself enough, denied yourself enough, finally you can’t stand one more night of going home without getting fucked, _finally_ you come to me ready to _beg_ for what you need.”

By the end of this, the Mandalorian’s uneven breaths had turned to quiet whimpers, and he shifted restlessly within the tiny range of movement she allowed him, trying to get what he could from her.

“Tell me I’m right,” she murmured. He shook his head a little, but she could sense him wavering, need inexorably overwhelming pride, the moment a microcosm of everything that had led them to it.

She waited him out, holding him in place so tightly he’d probably bruise, measuring her slow heavy breaths syncopated against the slow heavy throbs of her cock buried within his tight heat. Finally, he curled forward like a reed bending in wind and put his helmeted forehead to her shoulder with a little moan. A tiny thing, compared to everything else he had given her, but it resonated through her like a roll of thunder.

“Mando,” she said, her mouth by his ear now. She didn’t feel quite so steady anymore, despite the grounding of his weight in her lap and her grip on his wrists, but all she had to do was _sound_ steady, and --

“Please,” the Mandalorian breathed. Begging, but not quite an admission. She gave him one long thrust for it, a morsel of reward (a small indulgence of her own building need to _take_ him) and he moaned again, louder.

“ _Please_ ,” he said again. Another long thrust, another moan that trailed off into a whimper. Helmet pressing into her shoulder hard, as though a sensation like that could distract either of them. 

“ _Tell me_ ,” Kai breathed, adrenaline spiking as she sensed the moment before the kill, “or I will _never_ give you what you want.”

He made a low, anguished sound. About to break. For all that he could deny himself pleasure for a month or two at a time, he could never stand it for long when _she_ denied him. 

“You’re right,” he finally whispered, as though he were giving her the most sacred of secrets. “You’re right about all of it.” A shuddering breath. “ _Please_ , Kai, I need you to fuck me.”

“Good,” Kai panted. It was enough -- battle of wills won, admission received, she fucked up into him hard, finally giving in to what they both wanted.

The Mandalorian moaned with her thrusts, with the relief of finally getting what he needed, wantonly loud. Finally she was getting what _she_ wanted, too. Her cock plunging into him over and over, into slick clinging heat that massaged the sensitive nubs spiraling up the length of her. Holding him, keeping him, having him so willingly, desperately caught in her arms. She groaned, descending into an eager growl as waves of sensation spread away from their epicenter between her legs, like the caress of flames crawling across her skin. 

The quiet of her office soaked up the sounds of them. His voice, spiralling up in pleasure. The slap of her balls against his ass with every thrust. The creak of the chair, the low chiming of her belt buckle.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “stars, oh, fuck --” He leaned back into her grip and bared his throat in the throes of it, long pale column of vulnerability calling out to Kai like a beacon. She let go of one of his wrists and took ahold of his throat instead, just lightly at first, letting the implications spiral through him -- watching and feeling how they manifested in him shuddering and pushing forward into her hand.

“ _Oh_ , please please please,” he begged like the words could only tumble from his mouth, out of his control.

“Slut,” she said quietly, even reverently. He gasped, a big breath in, perfect -- and she tightened the squeeze of her fingers on his throat just slowly enough for him to feel it coming, until all he could manage were choked little fervent gasps, pinned willingly by wrist and throat, taking whatever she gave him. 

“Fucking beautiful, princess,” she said, breathing hard. “What a good slut.” Some kind of sweet nothings, scorn and praise all tangled up together. She released his throat for a moment just to give him a little break and he _whined_ until she put her hand to choking him again. He was keeping the hand she had let go of behind his back even though he didn’t have to, shifting only to pull the thong further out of the way, to give Kai better access, and she _burned_ with the knowledge of it, fucking up into him harder, harder, “ _yes_ such a good slut for me sweetheart, let me give you what you need --”

His breath came in ragged, ascending moans. Beyond words now, reduced to just sounds and sensation. His wrist would bruise, probably, with how tightly she clung to it.

“Good slut,” she told him fervently again. And rewarded him by squeezing his throat hard, so hard she might leave a bruise on his throat too, exactly how he wanted it. How _she_ wanted it. Wanted to give him those marks and have him take them with him when he left, hidden under his armor where only she would know they existed. He’d make sure they healed before he came back for his next shift, but until then he’d be marked as _hers_.

A moment later, he pushed his throat forward against her hand even harder and came, with no other warning. A hoarse shout spilled out of him, cut short when he ran out of air, and then he was silent, clutching up tight around her as she fucked him through it, coming all over his own tensed, taut belly. Finally he dragged in a breath and exhaled again as almost a sob, and at the sound of him, Kai’s own orgasm hit her all at once, barrelling in out of nowhere. Her hand moved unconsciously to the back of his neck, pulling him and his shattering sounds in close as she shuddered hard and came up inside him, that caress of flames spilling its flush of heat through her entire body as she groaned and filled him up with her cum.

“... _Fuck_ ,” Kai breathed, appreciatively. The Mandalorian’s free arm had ended up around her shoulders, holding onto her too. They shared some moments of almost quiet, almost stillness; chests heaving in tandem, sharing panting breaths.

“My good slut,” she said one more time, catching her breath, and the Mandalorian made another tremulous little noise as he shivered. Kai nudged his chin up and ducked down to mouth at the place where her hand had been wrapped around his throat. She’d just keep him for a little while longer. Take the opportunity to press those marks a little deeper into his skin while her cock slowly softened enough to slip out of him. He clearly didn’t mind, leaning into her and making soft, hurt little sounds that made her want to lay him down and have him all over again. It was always like this.

She sighed, and he moaned, when her cock finally slipped out of him; its sensitive little bumps were softened as well but still pronounced enough to catch on the thong a little on the way past, throwing aftershocks like tiny sparks. She finally let go of his wrist to reach down and touch his tender hole. She didn’t need to look to know how messy she’d made him, smeared with lube and her cum too, but she wanted to feel it.

“Kai,” the Mandalorian said helplessly, shifting.

“Okay, sweetheart, okay,” she said soothingly, taking her hand away. She could tell when it got to be too much. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”

That, he let her handle, pliant and soft, both arms wrapped around her then, just holding on as she got the wipes out of her desk drawer and cleaned them both up. The beskar thong would need a properly thorough wash later, but she wiped it off well enough that he could wear it home without feeling too uncomfortable. She tucked her cock back into her trousers, but didn’t bother to zip back up. The trousers would need a proper cleaning later, too.

“Want to move to the couch?” She asked. Slowly, he shook his head, so she wrapped her arms around him and let him slowly melt against her, chin coming to rest on her shoulder. She melted a little, too.

“Cold?” She checked, and he shook his head again, as expected. She kept her office at a temperature comfortable for her -- too warm for humans most of the time, but perfect for this, for letting him linger in warmth without having to scramble for blankets or clothes.

“How do you feel?” She asked.

“Fine,” he said.

“Just fine?” Half teasing him, half wanting an actual answer.

He huffed a little laugh so close to her ear that she could almost feel the phantom of his breath on her skin. “Good,” he amended. And added, before she could reply, “It’s always good with you.”

She nudged her temple against his, a pleased little smile curving her mouth. She’d known how he felt about their scenes, but hearing him say it was different. Better. Rare. “It’s always good with you, too,” she replied.

They sat together in the quiet. Just breathing, sharing heat, sharing a little skin where her bare arms wrapped around his back. He shifted closer, snaking an arm around her waist instead of her shoulders, and ducked his head down to put his forehead to her shoulder again. Just for a little while, before it was time for him to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Join the Star Wars Fanfiction Discord server! We have a spicy, friendly, and sex positive NSFW section! >:3 Invite link [here](https://discord.gg/Z5vfnsX).


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